Chapter 132
Chapter 132. Significant Impact
—
After Germadios left with a light-hearted stride.
Lumiafia felt a sense of obligation to witness what would unfold, given that she was the one who had incited it, so she peeked out from the window at the banquet hall.
(Well, I don’t really care what happens to that guy…)
Until that moment, she had thought so casually, but—
(Hold on a second, that man, no way he’s thinking…)
Holding a glass filled to the brim with wine, Germadios went up to the stage, and her bad premonition only grew stronger.
(Wow! There’s no way he’s seriously doing that!!)
In the middle of the pleasant conversation, Germadios splashed wine right in the face of the prince.
He acted exaggeratedly humble, bowing his head and wiping it with a handkerchief, yet the prince stood there with a terrifyingly expressionless face—
Meanwhile, both the father and brother next to him looked incredibly stiff, indicating that he must be saying something extremely rude.
(No way! There should be a better way to cause a ruckus!!)
Lumiafia fumed at how poorly he was going about it but had no choice but to watch—
Then—
(Ah, he’s smiling for some reason…)
Zilbagias sported a refreshing smile. Was he not that angry after all? Or had he calmed down?
Thinking that for even a moment was a grave mistake.
Suddenly kicking the table, Zilbagias—
“I am Zilbagias Reiju!”
His declaration echoed throughout the banquet hall.
“The Demon Lord Kingdom has the Seventh Demon Prince!!”
He shattered the table and sent Germadios flying with a punch right to his face.
“What the…?!”
Lumiafia watched in shock as Germadios soared through the air, a chill running down her spine. Zilbagias’s mana was visibly swelling, making it clear he was on a whole different level than her brother.
In an instant, he had risen above her brother, matching Germadios in power.
(No way… Is that what a declaration looks like…?!)
Lumiafia had never even been to a battlefield. She knew about the Demon Lord and the Orgi tribe’s bloodline magic, but never expected such a dramatic change to happen.
While she was still trying to process what was happening, the situation progressed quickly. Zilbagias laughed mockingly on stage, while Germadios, angrily wiping food off his long hair, stood up, indignant.
(…!! That guy!)
Seeing Germadios reach for his belt—grabbing his magical spear—she felt a scream rising inside her.
(No way! That’s way too far!!)
Who on earth challenges someone to a duel at a welcome banquet?!
Just because she teased a bit out of mischief, the whole situation had spiraled out of control—in a deeply negative direction.
Lumiafia felt a headache coming. She didn’t want to think she had pulled the trigger on this.
And then, as Germadios reached for his weapon, Zilbagias responded by placing his hand on the hilt of his sword!!
(Stop…! Please, just stop…!!)
She desperately wished for it. Before anything more could happen, she wanted Germadios to bow out. It might still be possible; if he left now, maybe her name wouldn’t end up in this disaster.
Just then, all eyes in the banquet hall focused on the Grand Duchess Platiphia on stage.
Though she hid her mouth with a fan, it seemed she was saying something.
(Thank goodness! She’s definitely stopping them…)
It might be a stretch to call Lumiafia optimistic, but—
Zilbagias grinned wickedly and transformed human bones into a long spear, assuming a combat stance.
She could feel the mana building up, ready for a fight. And unbelievably, Germadios began to summon his magical spear and donned the “Resting Suit”!!
(Why oh why—!?)
At this point, she felt another scream building up inside her. Was Platiphia not stopping them?
But looking closely, she saw that the Grand Duchess, hiding her mouth with the fan, was unmistakably laughing, while her grandfather Jijiivart had completely switched to spectator mode.
So that’s what was happening.
Abruptly, the prince raised his strange weapon and charged.
“…!”
Lumiafia gasped at the speed of his advance and the overwhelming power he was packing.
The clash of sword and spear sent shockwaves that rattled the windows of the banquet hall. She felt the impact wave coming at her, instinctively shrinking back.
“Raaaarrr—!!”
With a terrifying smile, Zilbagias relentlessly assaulted Germadios with a barrage of strikes. Though he occasionally counterattacked and received cuts on his body, he showed no sign of pain, even as he accelerated further—
“No way…”
That Germadios was actually being—overwhelmed. He was continually forced back. Lumiafia remembered that she had once trained with Germadios.
She hadn’t been able to land a single hit. She’d been easily dodged, poked at, and rolled away.
Annoying and creepy as he was, his strength was undeniable.
Even her beloved brother had trained with him and while he did manage to hold on for a while, once Germadios turned on the offensive, he could only hold out for a few exchanges at most.
Yet that prince—
Zilbagias—
Wasn’t just having difficulty; he was enjoying this!
Germadios, desperately fending off the prince’s onslaught, had his usually suave grin wiped off his face as he broke into a sweat, the expression on his face one of pure desperation.
He was cornered right up to the wall—
With a pained expression, Germadios suddenly tossed aside the “Resting Suit,” thrusting forward with the dark mana shield raised like a wall.
And catching him off guard, he thrust the tip out from within the “Resting Suit.”
But—
Effortlessly deflecting that with his sword, Zilbagias—
“—Die!!!”
A pathetic scream escaped Lumiafia’s lips.
A fear crawled up her spine, one she could only describe as primal dread—it was the pure killing intent she had never experienced before.
(I’m going to die—)
Lumiafia felt herself about to crumble to the ground. She envisioned Germadios’s head being ruthlessly severed.
But in reality, his blade came to a sudden halt.
The “Resting Suit” vanished like smoke, revealing a pitiful-faced Germadios.
“I—… I’m alive…?”
In a daze, Lumiafia collapsed onto her butt. Suddenly, she was drenched in cold sweat. If she had unwittingly caused a death in the celebratory hall—no matter how annoying Germadios was, she didn’t wish for his death.
This… It wasn’t how she intended things to turn out.
However, the conclusion did not stop there.
“Ah!”
At the tip of Germadios’s shocked horn—
“—Look at this horn of mine. Isn’t it a beautifully refined form? I never skip my daily grooming—”
The tip of his self-praising horn, which he had been obnoxiously boasting about, suddenly—
Popped off—
“…”
Germadios trembled and foamed at the mouth as he collapsed in front of Lumiafia, who stared in shock.
Zilbagias shrugged, looking awkward, as the people around them rushed in a panic.
The banquet hall erupted into chaos.
“Ah… I didn’t mean for this to happen…”
Lumiafia, still sitting there, started to shuffle back in terror.
“I… don’t know! I don’t know…!”
Rolling away, she fled the scene.
With no time to consider the confused servants, she dove under her bedcovers in her room, trembling.
She never expected the prince was that strong.
She never thought Germadios would act so recklessly.
And she certainly never anticipated it would lead to something… something so big.
What would happen to Germadios now, and to herself?
She couldn’t predict any of it, only terrified—
Lumiafia spent the whole night unable to sleep from anxiety.
†††
—
Albar Aoril Reiju is the eldest son of the Ouil family.
His trademark is his slicked-back gray hair. Unlike most of his kind, he is rather cooperative, leading some rude folks to call him a “softie,” but he is quite capable and falls somewhere between a young upstart and the stable middle class.
He’s caring and not tyrannical, so younger folks and children fondly refer to him as “big brother.”
“Alright, you guys ready?”
“Hell yeah!”
“Totally ready, big bro!”
That day, he had come to greet Zilbagias at the banquet hall, accompanied by his two younger friends, whom he had overcome many hardships with.
Since he made contact before the tribe leader did—yes, the welcome banner—though they managed to escape while the leader yelled at them, their father gave them a good smack when they got home, asking, “What the hell were you doing!”
Yet, undeterred, they appeared again. A little scolding wouldn’t break their spirit; the Ouil family, male and female alike, were toughness incarnate.
Since they weren’t dignified enough to attend the welcome banquet, they aimed to make their entrance toward the end, after the meal and greetings were likely completed.
“Brother, you look sharper than ever!”
“Hehehe, you know it!”
With his younger friend’s compliments showering him, Albar Aoril rubbed his nose in pride. He felt it would stick out if he wore his everyday clothes, so he had swiped his old man’s best outfit from the closet.
“We’ll curry favor with the prince and rise up in status!”
“Yay!”
“Woohoo!”
They entered the hall in high spirits, but—
Upon stepping in, they were stunned.
The tables were in complete disarray, as if there had been a brawl.
Servants were urgently tidying up scattered dishes on the floor.
The guests were whispering amongst themselves while sipping their drinks, and there was an odd atmosphere in the air—
“Did someone get into a fight or something?”
“At the prince’s welcome banquet? What a troublesome fellow!”
Albar Aoril felt indignantly surprised at his younger friend’s murmur.
“I can’t believe someone would go that far—looks like we need to deal with this ourselves!”
“Yeah!”
“Count us in!”
Nearby demons gave them a double take at their conversation but ended up saying nothing.
As for the focal point Germadios—
He was on stage being leered at by a striking white-skinned blonde woman.
Well, not just any woman; she was a high elf with long ears. And she had no limbs.
“Brother! Is that possibly…?”
“Yeah… I’ve heard rumors about that high elf’s pet!”
The three were slightly put off.
“The prince is something else, isn’t he? So bold in front of everyone…”
“Yeah… we couldn’t do that!”
What a formidable person, yet here they were, planning to be henchmen to such a figure. Gathering themselves, they headed toward Zilbagias.
Still, the faces of the two sitting near the prince, Eijivart and Zikvart, looked grim, and the Grand Duchess and tribe leader were engaged in serious discussion. What was going on?
(Well, if there’s been some commotion at a welcome banquet, it could feel awkward…)
Thinking that.
Fortunately, it appeared Zilbagias had finished his greetings, allowing Albar Aoril and the others to approach smoothly.
“Your Highness! I apologize for the earlier ruckus. I am Albar Aoril Reiju!”
Ignoring the tribe leader’s family’s gaze of “Oh, it’s you again,” he knelt down to greet.
“Ah, it’s you three. You really came to greet me, huh?”
Zilbagias answered with a bitter smile but still warmly.
The high elf, who had been licking on her master’s lap, tilted her head at “kunn?” but lost interest and returned to grooming time.
(But, really…)
Albar Aoril felt a bit puzzled.
Unlike before, Zilbagias’s outfit now looked almost battle-damaged.
(Innovative! Is this the latest trend in the Demon Lord Castle?)
But he kept that thought to himself.
“So, you wanted to be my servants or something?”
Zilbagias mentioned that, and Eijivart beside him looked astonished, but Albar Aoril joyfully replied, “Yes!”
“We’ll definitely be of help! Please use us as your hands and feet!”
With Albar Aoril’s words, the banquet hall suddenly went silent.
“Hmmm… Well, it’s a bit hard to give an immediate answer…”
Zilbagias pondered for a moment before glancing at Zikvart, the next tribe leader.
“Some of our staff are indeed needed. If there are no other candidates, would it be alright to take them, Zikvart?”
“Y-yes… Of course, if there are no other candidates…”
Zikvart awkwardly smiled and accepted.
(Wow!)
(No way!)
(That was so easy!)
The trio internally celebrated wildly.
The prince from a rising family, an unprecedented chance for advancement; they never expected to be treated this way, thinking they would be turned away as young fellows would swarm to become servants!
“However, I want to see your abilities through a spar first.”
“Yes! Of course!”
That made perfect sense, Albar Aoril replied confidently, causing the nearby demons to do a double-take.
After they discussed the arrangements for the spar, Albar Aoril and his friends took their leave.
“Yay!”
“That felt great, bro!”
“This luck might be turning around for us!”
The trio left joyfully, arm in arm on their way home—
(But still…)
While feeling elated, Albar Aoril found himself wondering.
—Why was everyone looking at them with such pity?
The answer to that would become clear—just a bit further down the line.
